


Side Effects of Superstrength

by Ashynarr



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (Not Entirely On Purpose Usually), Alfred Causing Mayhem With His Superpower, Drabble Collection, Gen, Hiatus until I get good ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3498680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashynarr/pseuds/Ashynarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So you know how, canonically, Alfred can drag around cars and swing bison like it's nothing? Yeah, the other Nations do too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Communist Ghosts Are Srs Bsns

"Are you sure this is gonna work?"

Alfred perked up, turning his head just enough from his lunch to see Gilbert, Antonio and Francis leaning close together, grinning widely at some inside joke.

"Of course it is," Gilbert whispered, hitting a fist to his chest. "I came up with it after all!"

"Last time, you nearly got killed again when Erzsebet ran you through as payback."

"Pheh, it was only a flesh wound, nothing serious." The ex-Nation waved it off. "Besides, everyone's gonna be laughing their asses off at this, I guarantee it."

The American hummed thoughtfully, looking deliberately back to his food so they didn't see him paying attention. Apparently they had some sort of prank planned for the afternoon meeting, which was perfectly fine with him if it meant a good laugh. He considered offering to help, but figured they didn't want too many complications to their plan.

Eager anticipation it was, then. Now to put on his best innocent face so no one got tipped off…

A few minutes later he trailed back into the meeting room with the others, noticing Gilbert was the only one missing by the time everyone else was settled into place for another four hours of discussions. Not that he was supposed to be there, seeing as he wasn't a full Nation anymore, but he still crashed in enough that people were used to seeing him chilling with his buddies.

Alfred tapped his foot, pencil twirling in his fingers while he avoided looking towards the door, focusing instead on Anri's speech on her latest ecological diversity findings. Not that it wasn't totally interesting! (cough), but it was hard waiting for something to happen when you were hoping for it-

Gilbert and Francis' birds flew through the open window, carrying giant packages of glitter that exploded just as they reached the middle of the room, instantaneously turning the entire room into a German Sparkle Party. Everyone started yelling at once, Ludwig's voice towering over them all as he demanded Gilbert get inside immediately to clean up the mess he'd made.

Through all this the America cackled, carefully keeping his shirt over his mouth to avoid choking on the glitter accidentally. Seeing everyone covered in sparkles was definitely a mood lifter by any means, and certainly worth the wait.

Even after everyone was directed out to another meeting hall so the first one could be cleaned, stray glitter still abounded in hair, clothes, and papers alike. Antonio and Francis were even gracious enough to brush everyone's suits off as they left the room, Alfred laughing at the ruffling of his hair before he was allowed out.

Mood as perked as it was, he didn't even hear the quiet whisper behind his ear until it repeated itself. "Amerika…"

Alfred startled, looking all around and behind him but seeing no one - Ivan and his siblings were on the far side of the room, and neither of the Nations he was next to had any sort of Russian accent. Frowning, he turned back to the meeting, only to jump again when the voice returned.

"Your time has come, Amerika…"

He wiped at his ears for some sort of hidden mic, only to find nothing. He took a breath, telling himself it was just a stupid joke by someone and that Ivan had totally just been messing with him a few years back-

"Your country will fall, and we will rise again…"

' _There are no commie ghosts, there are no commie ghosts,_ ' Alfred told himself firmly, twisting around just to make sure there were no hidden mics on the back of his chair.

"Alfred, what are you doing?" Arthur asked from a few seats over, drawing a few Nations' attention.

"Nothing, nothing," He denied instantly, sinking into his seat with a sheepish grin while his fingers twitched, waiting for the others to turn away before he let out a sigh of relief.

"Say goodbye to your foolish ways once and for all!"

" _Commie ghosts!"_  He shrieked, not even thinking before grabbing the heaviest thing he could find - in this case, the new meeting table - and flinging it around to smash into the wall behind him in order to ward off the ghosts.

There was a long moment of stunned silence as he breathed heavily, everyone looking from the table now embedded in the wall (several Nations had had to duck in order to avoid being smacked in the head) to Alfred, and from him to the surprised Gilbert who had been hiding under the table, mike in hand.

Matthew, one of the first to piece things together, walked over to his brother and patted the back of his jacket for a minute, pulling out the receiving mike that'd been stuck down it. Alfred, quickly realizing what that meant, turned on Gilbert with a dark expression, the Germanic chuckling nervously as he backed towards the far end of the room.

(On the upside, Ludwig didn't even need to punish the trio this time.)


	2. Arthur Is Not A Responsible Adult

Today was  _not_  his day.

"Are you okay?"

Arthur groaned, lifting his head enough to try and give his new colony the most reassuring grin he could muster. "I'm, urgh, fine, just a bit tired."

Alfred frowned, not looking like he was buying the excuse. "Do you want me to get some help?"

"No no, I've got this well under control." The older Nation did  _not_ want anyone to know he'd managed to get himself injured when his horse got spooked and bucked the two of them off; at the least he could take comfort in the fact that his colony appeared uninjured from the fall. "I just need a few moments and I'll be good to go, alright?"

Alfred nodded slowly, still frowning as he replied, "Alright."

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes as the child left his field of view, figuring the boy couldn't get into too much trouble while he rested for a bit…

He startled awake again when someone shook him, his eyes flashing open in preparation to defend himself before he realized it was Alfred and their wayward horse, not France and Prussia. "You found him?"

"He was just grazing a little bit away," Alfred frowned, the expression adorable in its seriousness. "You aren't supposed to sleep outside; you said that yourself."

"I was resting, not sleeping," Arthur automatically denied, wincing at the attempt to wave it off as nothing.

"You should be in bed if you're gonna sleep more," The colony ignored him, turning back to the horse. "Can you help me get him home? He's being silly."

"Don't talk to the horse like it can…" Arthur blinked slowly, watching as the horse got down to its knees, accepting the nose pats from the child before turning to look at him.

"You're gonna have to hold on, kay?" Alfred told him cheerfully, right before he felt something under him, and suddenly he was off the ground, which was surreal because the other two here were himself and-

A flash to his first meeting with the boy, when he'd been helping Ginny and Ben with one of the carriages by holding it up while they fixed it came to mind. It was still surreal to him, because even for Nations this level of strength was absolutely absurd.

Alfred settled him gently onto the back of the horse, his hands automatically coming to cling its mane as it stood back up. The colony then grabbed the reins and started walking back towards the house, humming to himself as they plodded onwards.

At some point he must have drifted off again, because the next thing he remembered was Ginevra frantically pulling him off the horse, half-carrying half-dragging him into the house while Alfred followed, blabbing about everything that had happened since they'd left earlier that day for a nice, harmless ride.

He exhaled sharply as he was pressed into bed, his shirt getting pulled off as she checked him over for injuries, prodding at each with what he felt to be excessive force.

"Honestly, you've been out there for days if Alfred hadn't hauled you back," She huffed, turning away to grab the cloth she'd ordered the younger boy to grab. "Gave yourself a concussion falling off your horse, and you thought you were alright? I ought to keep you in bed for the next fortnight so that you don't do something so foolish again around him."

"I would have been fine," Arthur protested weakly, wincing at the look she gave him for it. "It's hardly like it would have killed me."

" _Men,_ " She groaned, shaking her head in despair as she scrubbed over the wounds as gently as she could manage with the damp cloth. "You're just lucky Alfred wasn't hurt as well; neither of you would have returned for days, and that horse of yours would probably still be out there somewhere."

Arthur groaned and let his eyes slide shut. Seriously, why were all of his colonies so set against him? It was hardly the worst wound he'd suffered, and Alfred would have been fine regardless. Really, it was quite the overreaction.

(And he didn't appreciate the accusation that Alfred was the more sensible of the two of them, either, thank you very much!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the update for this month! I've been reading your guy's suggestions and am liking a few of them, though others might be a bit tricky to pull off. I'll sort of mix and match and intersperse with my own things I guess, but overall all of these should be short and fun to read.
> 
> Reminder that reviews and kudos on any and all of my stories help motivate me to keep writing!


	3. Fun For The Whole Family!

"Aw man, I haven't been to one of these in ages," Alfred grinned as he spun around to take in the vista. He hadn't stepped into a genuine faire in a long time, and the cheery atmosphere was enough to release a lot of the tension he'd been feeling for the past few days.

No one else had really been available to come with him, but that was fine - he'd be able to run around without worrying he was dragging people to or away from things they might or might not want to do and thus ruining their fun.

(Seriously, nothing ruined his own fun like ruining other peoples.)

"Come right up," He heard someone call nearby, drawing his attention from the shooting gallery he'd been eying. "Test your strength here - hit the bell and win a prize!"

Alfred turned to look at the tester, seeing the woman in charge chatting to a small family who'd stopped by to check it out. She was clearly buttering up the taller of the two men in front of his husband and daughter, smiling as he handed over the cash and offering the oversized mallet in exchange.

Figuring he had nothing better to do, Alfred approached as the man lined up the strike, bringing it down on the platform with a satisfying thud of impact.

The weight barely hit the halfway mark before coming back down, the man blinking then sighing as the woman smiled sympathetically. "Would you like to try again?"

Alfred knew from long experience that many of these games were, in friendly terms made more challenging and in more honest terms rigged for failure, and generally ignored it when his people were willing to shrug it off, but the man's daughter honestly looked so disappointed that he had to do something, even if it'd be a bit cheaty on his end as well. "Hey, can I give it a shot?"

She turned to him with surprise, having missed his approach, but quickly caught up and smiled as well. "It'll be two dollars, then."

He handed over the money and picked up the mallet, testing its weight while eying the setup. The setup generally didn't change too much from faire to faire, so if he remembered last time right… well, better to be safe than sorry.

He brought the hammer down almost gently, a test to see how far it'd go with a 'normal' hit, and calculating just the effort he'd need to give it a good ring.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She shrugged as it went just over halfway. "Would you like to try again?"

"Sure," Alfred smiled, handing over another two dollars before widening his stance slightly, adjusting his shoulders, lining up and shot, and ramming it with a much more satisfying smack.

The sharp clang of the bell was music to his ears, and he couldn't hold back the grin at her gobsmacked expression even as he turned to the family who had happened to be lingering and were now staring at the scene wide eyed as well. "Hey, you want something from the stall?"

The girl blinked and looked back to him, taking all of three seconds to reach that sense of innate trust most of his people held with him before smiling and pointing to a large neon pink dog. "That one!"

Alfred turned back to the women who now seemed to be looking between the setup and the weight suspiciously with an innocent grin. "Hey, you caught that?"

"Hmm?" She asked, before realizing she'd yet to hand over the prize. Slapping on a new smile, she handed over the doll and congratulated him, staring at him as she tried to will him away so she could make sure the setup still worked right.

Not that she would find anything, but hey, he'd made a kid happy and her parents thankful, so overall today had been a great day. Now to see if he could win that plush wolf he'd spied a few stalls over - hadn't Mattie said something about Nunavut's birthday coming up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alfred can be a troll too, see? But to be fair, it /was/ for the kiddies, so he can be forgiven for cheating a little bit in order to win a rigged game. Also, he isn't as dumb as he acts sometimes, people, remember that too!


	4. Business Over Break

"Excuse me," Ludwig asked, hoping he'd come to the right address. "I was told Alfred was here…?"

He'd been a bit leery of coming all the way out to the rural regions of New Mexico to find said Nation, but his boss had been insistent this get to America as soon as possible, so he'd come with the documents under one arm and an apology gift for barging in during the other's supposed vacation.

The young woman raised an eyebrow, looking him over before nodding slowly. "You're Germany, right? Al said you'd be coming - he's out back right now helping Tony with his ship."

Ludwig sighed gratefully. "Thank you… New Mexico?"

"Arizona, actually," The State grinned. "My sister's making lunch, if you're staying that long."

"I wouldn't want to impose…"

"Like I said, Al told us you were coming, so we're more than prepared for an extra at the table today."

The German conceded. "If you insist. Is it possible to speak to him now, or should I wait for him to finish?"

"It should be fine," Arizona decided after a moment's thought. "And if this thing of yours is important enough to bring you all the way out here, then might as well get it outta the way so we aren't talking business over lunch."

She stepped outside, gesturing for him to follow her around and behind her house to the wide fields gently rolling behind them. "I don't actually own anything out here other than the house - I'm not made of money like Bella is - but since no one else does either it's easier to hide Tony's things here that he can't keep in Virginia."

"I see," Germany replied, and then he suddenly did-

Well, he saw the spaceship, which hadn't been hovering in front of him two seconds beforehand. He stopped, wondering what had just happened, while Arizona jogged up to the small gray alien.

"Al, Tony, Germany's here!"

Germany blinked, wondering where the American was up until he heard someone underneath the ship speak up. "Oh, is he? Gimme a second-"

And then the entire ship shifted, rising up and tilting to the side to show that it hadn't been hovering at all, merely held off the ground instead. Alfred carefully shifting his grip to set it aside gently, the entire thing rocking briefly as it settled back into balance.

"Hey, dude," The American grinned, wiping his hands off on his pants. "What'd you wanna chat about?"

Ludwig tried to speak a few times, having mentally calculated the likely weight of the ship and just being thankful he was on good terms with Alfred now. "Ah, my boss has a few things he needs your input on before the next meeting…"

"Right, just gimme a minute to wash up and I'll go over the stuff." Alfred walked past, passing through what looked like a heat wave as he made his way to the house.

The German man sighed, wishing he had a free hand to rub his face with right now, because the State's amusement at his momentary shock was more than a bit irritating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter piece than I'd hoped, but eh, sometimes it just doesn't work out. And yes, New Mexico and Arizona are twin sisters in my mind and the youngest of the States. They were convenient for this drabble.


	5. Economic Colds Are The WORST

"Ulgh, I'm shorry Toris," Alfred groaned miserably, punctuating it with another loud sneeze. "You don't have to do this for me."

"But I want to," His friend replied firmly, offering over a new box of tissues so the American could wipe off the snot and tears again. "I would be a bad friend if I left you alone like this."

"But it's ruining your vacation," The blond complained, sneezing again and crushing the box of tissues in his hand. Thankfully that failed to damage the tissues inside, though he still looked absolutely miserable a the loss of control. "And I might hurt you again."

Toris sighed. "I can always take my days off afterwards, and this should blow over in a few days at most; it's fine, Mr. America."

"Yeesh, you're too much like Artie sometimes," Alfred muttered, sinking back into his sheets with a sniffle and a pout.

"I'll take that as a complement this time," The Lithuanian man replied easily. "At least my food is better, right?"

Alfred's laugh came out more as a hacking cough. "True; it might actually help me get better sooner instead of leaving me in a coma for an extra week."

The brunet smiled, straightening the sheets so that they covered most of his friend's body again before going downstairs to check on the stew he'd left simmering. Leaving food unattended for long was generally a bad idea, but he'd been cooking and serving it for others for long enough to have an idea for how long he could be away safely, and really, without him there to keep the blond in bed, there was no doubt the American would do something stupid like try to get up and get some work done 'while he was doing nothing anyways'.

Honestly, did the boy have no self-concern at all? It was so surreal compared to Europe that it still threw him whenever he thought about it for long.

Then he recalled just how England treated his other possessions, and shut his thoughts up again.

Testing the stew and finding it to be just right, he shut off the stove and pulled it to the side, ladling out a decent amount into the bowl before setting the ladle to the side and turning to bring lunch back upstairs. He could eat later, but right now Alfred needed something in his system to help fight off the cold that'd taken advantage of his economic weakness.

On second thought, he ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. Better to be safe than sorry after all.

"What is that?" Alfred asked exhaustedly as he eyed the bowl and towel.

"Vegetable stew; it's an old recipe of mine," Toris replied, carefully handing over the bowl and spoon while laying out the towel on his friend's lap.

"Wow, no faith in me," The blond shot heatlessly, peering down into the bowl with an expression that could have been distaste or just some queasiness. "Thanks, though."

Alfred slowly started taking bites of his lunch, making faces but continuing to eat it all wordlessly. Maybe Toris' small rant on health and eating well had finally sunk in?

Then Alfred sneezed, the bowl cracking under his fingers and sending the remaining half of the bowl spilling across the towel and the sheets as well as himself. The spoon was merely bent down the middle, looking like a tiny ladle itself now. "Aw, shit."

"Are you hurt, Mr. America?" Toris asked, more concerned with the hand that had been holding the bowl than the bowl itself. He had gone out and purchased the cheaper ones for a reason after the first two had broken, after all.

"I"m fine, Toris," The American replied, dropping the last shard in his hand to show that it was indeed free of any sort of wounds.

The Lithuanian sighed in relief, turning his attention back to the towel and thanking his past self for the forethought of grabbing it as he cleaned up the rest of the mess as well as he could. Alfred sniffled miserably, looking ready to sink back under the sheets and never emerge again.

"Sorry about that…" The younger man apologized softly, tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

"It's fine, I promise; you can't help it when you're sick."

"I am so making all this up to you when I get better."

Toris smiled, not doubting it for a second. "Of course, Mr. America."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, poor sick babus... at least he didn't break anything too important, and at least he had Toris there to keep him from doing something really dumb.
> 
> Slowly getting back around to all of my other drabble collections, though I have to admit a few other projects I've started recently have been eating into my time a bit more than initially planned... oh well, I guess...


	6. Formal(ish) Introductions

Though there were quite a few things the newly instated president was quickly coming to learn about his job, only one was really concerning him at the moment, and that was the young man he'd seen around at a few of his rallies helping raise funds out in the backyard playing with his daughters and their new puppy.

And none of his guards (at least the old hands, anyway) seemed at all concerned about the issue. In fact, one had even commented that they were probably the safest they could hope to be.

As that was all the explanation he seemed to be getting, he went to the one person who he hoped would tell him what was going on. Hillary had been somewhat confused until he'd described the young man, her expression quickly shifting to a fond amusement before replying.

"Oh, that's just Alfred. I should have realized he'd completely forget to introduce himself to you - it took him nearly a month to actually sit down with my husband and me and explain himself."

Well, that then begged the question of whether she could get him up here sometime soon, since he'd at least like to know who was being allowed around his kids without his prior knowledge. She'd nodded in understanding, pulling out her phone and auto-dialing the unknown man's number.

"Alfred, you forgot to introduce yourself to your new boss again."

Out the window, he could actually see the young man slap his face with his free hand. Hillary nodded at whatever he replied, looking over to one of the most experienced security guards and asking, "Could you get the window for him?"

Considering even the run to his office from the backyard should have taken a lot longer than that, he looked to her in question just as she ended the call on her phone and looked over to the opening window. Which was quickly occupied as the young man leapt over the bushes and skidded to a halt besides his desk.

"Sorry about that, Mrs. Clinton! I just really thought the girls would like some time outside since it's nice out today."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to," She replied, tilting her head towards the president.

"Ah right," Alfred replied, turning to him and offering a smile. "Heyas, I'm really glad you got into office and stuff, and I'm really looking forward to working with you for the next four or eight years! I'm Alfred F. Jones, but for boring official work stuff and my world meetings, you can call me America."

"...America." Yeah, it didn't seem like an administrative prank, but then again, this was really outside his suspension of disbelief.

Alfred seemed to recognize this fast, turning to Hillary with an unspoken question. She sighed, looking over to the president.

"You should probably move back - he likes showing off."

"Wow, mean," Alfred griped, even as he gripped the underside of the old wooden desk, rather heavy and sturdy from a few nudges to test, and lifted it up about as easily as if it were made of foam.

He closed his eyes and opened them again, Hillary seeming amused at his surprise even as Alfred - America? - grinned and lifted it a bit higher, showing no signs of exhaustion or of a loosening grip-

Until the loud blare of someone's phone startled him, causing him to drop the desk with an audible crack that had everyone wincing in unison. The phone was quickly cut off by a mortified Alfred, his gaze never leaving the president's face even as he cancelled the call.

"...I can totally fix that, boss."

(At least Alfred eventually proved to be more capable at his duties than his first appearance belied. And at least his first introduction to the young Nation hadn't been through his attempt to parachute from the White House roof with only a bedsheet.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooooooooooooo... it's been a little while, mostly because of other things sapping my attention and energy. I don't know how often I'll update this, but I'll see about at least once a month maybe?
> 
> But yeah, just a dumb dumb thing to make up for being sort of out there with my writing for a while. Life's been... bleh.


	7. Mixed Bag

Anticipation hung heavy in the air as the minutes ticked down to midnight. Without exception, attention was on the balcony, where the main attraction of the evening and his partner were themselves waiting for a more traditional celebratory moment.

Alfred was a kind soul, still clinging tight to his youthful exuberance. Normally, this would not be an issue, but he also tended to forget his own strength, leading to rather comic incidents - a chipped tooth here, a dislocated shoulder there, even one infamous evening where he'd managed to trip backwards off the balcony and drag his partner with him into the bushes below.

Luckily, there had yet to be a serious injury to anything besides pride, and so the party had quietly placed their bets earlier that night.

The clock struck twelve. Alfred moved for the kiss; his partner did as well, leading to their faces awkwardly smacking as phones went off to capture it. Those who'd bet on bloody noses smugly collected their winnings while the unlucky couple rushed for the tissue boxes.

The year had, someone noted, started with a bang. Their friend promptly smacked them for the terrible pun.

~0~0~0~0~

Alfred shifted on his feet, rubbing at his shoulders while waiting impatiently for his brother to get back from his truck with the rest of the ice fishing supplies. Even though he knew he was plenty warm, he shivered in his coat and shifted to his other foot, toe tapping an off rhythm beat into the thin layer of snow.

Winter, he decided again, was best experienced from a warm couch in a warmer house.

(Not that he didn't like skiing or snowboarding or any of those other winter activities! But that was just it, really - he preferred staying active when out in the cold so that he could ignore the fact that it was really fucking cold. Waiting around? Not so fun.)

Thump thump thump, his toe hit the ice under the snow, pausing as he shifted to his other foot. Thump thump thump.

"Alfred!"

"Mattie!" The American cheered, looking up to his brother only to pause in confusion at the exasperated scowl. "What?"

The Canadian simply pointed to the ice below his feet, which has started developing a not so small crack along it from where he'd been fidgeting. Another couple of minutes, and he might have accidentally dunked himself into the lake.

"Oops, sorry 'bout that," He apologized, getting out of the way while his brother simply took advantage of the weakness in the ice to start boring open the hole. Nanuq added his efforts by wandering over to the American's feet and plopping himself down, muzzle resting on his front paws as he yawned.

"Yeah, me too, pal," Alfred replied sympathetically, not for the first time wishing he hadn't agreed to this in a fit of boredom. At least he wasn't swimming in it right now.

~0~0~0~0~

"Yeah, that's definitely busted," Alfred told his travelling companions, closing the hood of the car with a sigh.

"Should we call a tow truck then?" Kiku asked, phone already out to search for the closest repair shop.

The American snorted. "And wait an hour or two out here? Walking'd be faster than that - town's only a mile and a half away, straight shot from here."

"In this weather?" Trausti looked put out. "We'll get heat stroke before we get there."

Alfred shook his head, glancing back to his brother. "Matt, can you make sure no one notices us?"

"On it," The Canadian replied, sitting back in his seat and closing his eyes.

"Matthew, what is he about to-!" Trausti was interrupted with the abrupt jerking of the car, the front window giving a complete view of the sky instead of looking out on the road like it had been.

"Alfred's carrying the car himself?" Kiku asked in disbelief, the first to catch on to the plan.

"Yes," Matthew replied curtly. "Now shut up so I can stay focused; do you want people to see us like this?"

The other two obligingly went quiet, sharing a long, exasperated glance with each other instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sort of out of ideas for this in my idea doc... eheh... I'll be trying to fit them to the prompts of Thewriterhelpers on tumblr if I can, but otherwise this'll just be whatever comes to mind or I stumble across. I'll try to update this a few more times this month, at the least.
> 
> (To note, the first two were based on prompts from the blog – with the second being a bit one of the old ideas in my doc – while the third was a request from ages ago. Apologies for not really giving it too much until now! Hope you all like it.)


	8. Versus!

"Hey, Alfred?" Matthew asked near the end of the call, in the tone of voice that generally accompanied a bite of the lip and his gaze looking up and to the side.

"Yeah, Mattie?" The American replied, curious as to what his brother could be so embarrassed about asking this time. It wasn't all that common an occurrence, drawing his mind away from the longing gazes he'd been giving to the package he'd just gotten from Kiku.

"How strong are you, exactly?"

Alfred blinked. "Uh, I 'unno, pretty strong? I mean, I can bench press Tony's ship, and that's not light when the antigrav's off. What, you need something hauled without anyone else finding out?"

"No, nonono, nothing like that," Matthew was probably shaking his head rapidly now, face flushing just a bit more. "I just, well, I was rewatching this show, and there was this one scene…"

Ah, he was starting to see where this was going. "What show, and who'm I being measured against?"

"...Tsunade. You know, the knife scene, where the picks it up and hurls it? I mean, that has to be a hundred tons, and I don't know if I've ever seen you try and lift something that heavy."

Alfred tapped a knuckle to his chin. "I'm pretty sure a hundred tons is about the weight of one of the larger planes, and I haven't ever actually trying shoving one of those around - never really crossed my mind, ya know?"

"Heh, I guess that makes sense," His brother replied, not entirely managing to hide his disappointment no matter how good he thought he was at it. "Sorry for bugging you about it, it's just, well…"

"Yeah, yeah, you're a nerd, I know," Alfred laughed. "'S not like it bothers me - you know I'm down for those sort of projects so long as nobody get hurt. Just hit me up sometime when we have a free weekend and I'll see if I can get us hooked up."

"That sounds fun," The Canadian agreed a bit more cheerfully. "See ya, Al."

"See ya, Matt."

The call ended, Alfred stuffing the phone into a pocket as he finally grabbed the newest games from Kiku's place and made his way to the living room. Tony was already in there, watching some hokey ancient aliens show and laughing into his popcorn, the American shaking his head even as he passed by to start digging out one of the handhelds. Any lingering thoughts on his brother's question were pushed away as he started mentally translating the opening dialogue for the first game he'd grabbed to English.

However, the thought was not so far gone that, later the next day, it couldn't stray forward again while Alfred was scrolling through Twitter. Several costumes from various shows had passed through his screen in short order, one of which at first glance looked just enough like his brother's old uniform that it dragged him, and thus their last conversation, back to mind.

His fingers tapped against the plastic of his phone thoughtfully, eyes sliding up to focus on nothing in particular for a moment before finally flickering over to the clock.

"Hey, Tony?" He called out, deciding there was in fact still enough time to catch his alien friend before he disappeared into his lab for the rest of the evening. "Think you can help me with a project real fast?"

~0~0~0~

Matthew couldn't help but raise a brow at the video his brother had sent - the thing didn't even have a proper title, must less a description telling him what it was actually about. Sure, it could have been a rickroll or jump scare video, but Alfred wasn't the type to send the latter and he almost always did the former with some silly quip about it being definitely not a prank this time.

Well, at worst he could prank his brother back, maybe by putting hot sauce in his drink or something. He hit play, the scene of his brother standing in the fields behind his house fading in almost immediately.

"Hey Mattie!" The American greeted, waving. "So I got to thinking about that thing you brought up the other day, and got Tony to help me run the calcs."

He held up an image, which on closer look was… huh, Tsunade perched on the massive tanto Gamabunta wielded. "We calculated that this blade would weigh about 74000 pounds, or 33500 kilos, or 37 tons, depending on what you're using. Since we probably wouldn't be able to forge something that big without drawing some attention, we decided to substitute in the weight."

The camera moved as his brother walked, revealing three massive anchors. "These are cruise anchors, each of which weighs around 11000 kilos. And yes, we've already put them back before you see this, 'kay? No one even noticed they were gone."

Matthew snorted, but was inwardly tickled pink that his brother had gone out of his way just to answer a dumb question he'd had.

"Right, so here's the first one," Alfred continued, grabbing the anchor and lifting it up in both hands. "Not the heaviest I've lifted. Now for the second…"

It took some shifting to free up the hand to grab the second, but soon he was holding two of the anchors rather awkwardly. "Yeah, this, whooh, isn't too bad… gonna try and grab the third…"

The maneuvers he had to make to the current two, each of which were larger than the American holding them, was perhaps even more entertaining than the question being answered. After two minutes, Alfred did managed to get a hand around the last, pulling it up with a grin only to overbalance and fall backwards, the anchors colliding with the ground around him with notable thuds.

"...right, I think that answers that question," His brother eventually replied, easing any concerns of injury. "Sorry Matt, looks like I lose out this time."

The video ended, Matthew finally giving in to the laugh he'd been holding back. Only his brother…

Still, he pondered idly while saving the link for a rainy day, would Alfred have been able to manage it if he hadn't fallen? He chastised himself for thinking it after it'd shown up, because the last thing he needed was Alfred actually putting together something to manage just that and injuring himself in the process.

...that didn't really help soothe his ever constant curiosity, but it was an attempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this almost has plot! Or not, who am I kidding, this just struck me while I was bumming around for novel things to write for this collection. I spent a whole fifteen minutes trying to figure out the size of that dang tanto so I could plug the numbers into a weight calculator and then use that as my guesstimate for the actual weight even though I probably offended a lot of people by not accounting for it not being a perfectly flat, even sheet of pure carbon steel. Oh well.


	9. Handle With Care

"You're a young man now, Alfred," Arthur began once they were nearing the edge of the woods, "Which means you need to learn how to defend yourself in case Spain - er, some Nation - decides to invade. Of course, you'll always be under my protection, but a bit of extra protection never hurts, eh?"

"Yes, Arthur," His colony replied dutifully, though he was fairly certain he could hear the excitement he was trying hard to hold back.

Arthur chuckled quietly - Alfred was certainly a long way from properly learning to reign in his emotions, but he was getting better every time he came to visit, so he supposed Virginia was doing something right by the boy. And, thankfully, his warnings to the boys about not teaching Alfred to use a musket before he could seemed to have been listened to for once.

Unslinging his musket from his waist, he turned to Alfred with a smile. "I'll show you what you need to do in order to load it properly, then I'll show you how to aim to get the best accuracy you can get from these. Don't worry about perfecting it right away - I'll be here the rest of the month, and we can come out a few more times to practice as needed."

He went through the steps slowly, making certain Alfred could clearly see how each step was meant to go - pouring the first batch of carefully measured powder into the barrel, then dropping the lead in and pushing it down to the back of the barrel, then finally pouring some more powder into the pan before closing it up and pulling back the hammer.

"Once all that is done, all you have to do is pull the trigger, and-" crack went the musket, the lead flying off at a slight angle to hit a branch a bit off from where he'd been aiming - not terrible for a demonstration, really. "You have all that?"

"Yes, Arthur," His colony replied.

"Good, then show me you can do it." He handed over the powder horn and the musket, watching carefully as Alfred mimicked what Arthur just did, looking back up at him for approval once he closed the pan and prepared the hammer. "Good, now try and take a shot."

Alfred bit his lip and nodded, bracing the butt of the musket against his shoulder before aiming for the same tree Arthur had. The musket went off with an even larger crack, though half of it seemed to come from the rather large seam going through the wood of the butt that hadn't been there a few seconds ago.

"Sorry, Arthur," Alfred replied behind a flush, ducking his head in apology. "James' rifle 's a lot more sturdy-"

"James?" Arthur asked, frowning more at that then at the, in hindsight probably inevitable, damage to something not meant to be rough handled by someone who could wrestle down a bull single-handedly. "Was he teaching you after I told him and the others specifically not to?"

"No sir," Alfred replied quickly. "I… he brought me along on a hunting trip once, and figured since I needed to learn eventually anyways it'd be better to get everything out of the way at once."

"And, when, exactly, was this?"

Alfred ducked his head some more. "Maybe when I was twenty or so?"

Arthur just groaned and rubbed at his face, wondering what else the colonies had decided to teach Alfred behind his back. No wonder the boys had all agreed so readily to his command - he should have been more suspicious at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, but college started up and so I sort of had to spend some time getting back into the routine and getting ahead on some homework before I felt comfortable getting back into writing. James, FYI, is Pennsylvania, and yeah, Alfred's known how to use a rifle for quite a while at this point, whoops. Poor, poor Arthur.

**Author's Note:**

> So here's this new series I've been planning for... wow, over a year now, I think? Something like that, anyways. Feel free to send in requests of hilarious and terrifying moments for Alfred's strength to come into play in, especially if it ends up making situations worse (or more hilarious).
> 
> I really need to stop making new collections and shit. I'm up to, what, thirteen active collections and stories? I am a madwoman, seriously now.


End file.
